


True Colors

by tomorrowthestars



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, reylo week 2018 day 1 (colors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 11:00:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomorrowthestars/pseuds/tomorrowthestars
Summary: My epilogue to the sequel trilogy





	True Colors

**Author's Note:**

> I had this image in my head, sort of an idyllic family scene; however, having nothing but happiness is completely unrealistic, because the past never really dies.

The atmosphere on this planet is different from almost any other. Above the planet the stratosphere has sharply defined layers of vastly different elements and gases, tumultuous when the layers are breached; it is thus difficult, sometimes dangerous, to pass through and land on the planet. Once on world, however, the atmosphere is not only compatible with life, but beneficial to it; and the turbulent stratospheric mixture creates the most vivid sunsets in the galaxy. When the sky is clear at sunset, all possible colors in existence roll out across it, streaming different hues and brightnesses in different patterns every day. It is an active sunset, filled with movement and brilliance, blooming quickly before settling into the peaceful midnight blue of the night cycle.

At this moment, it is not yet sunset, and the near orange-yellow of the afternoon sun shines down upon the combatants in the meadow. They are circling each other warily, sizing up openings, strengths, stances. Their eyes are narrowed, their bodies taut with tension, their senses open and gathering all information from the environment. Their feet move silently, circling through the thick green grass as the air carries the scent of the blooming purple amalys flowers on the edges of the nearby forest. They have performed this tense dance uncountable numbers of times, and there is a rhythm to their movements, a deep knowledge of each other that lends familiarity to their motions.

She knows him better, or maybe she’s just got more experience. Either way, when he moves first, feinting to one side before hurtling in the other direction, she spins out of the way of his wooden training saber and brings hers up against his back, more forcefully than she is supposed to do.

“Gotcha,” she says, then adds patronizingly, “Nice move, though.”

“Papa!” Aldaan pulls his training helmet off, face red and eyes tearing up with anger. “It’s not _fair_! She hit me too hard!”

“Okay,” Ben says, then rises from where he had been crouching and assessing their movements. “Stand down for a minute.”

Padme gives a dramatic sigh and pulls her helmet off. Her long black hair is already escaping the braids she wears underneath, billowing around her face, and she shakes it off impatiently as she practices twirling her purple training saber. She had insisted that it be purple; Ben objected, feeling it was undignified to have a brightly colored training saber, until Rey reminded him that he should consider himself lucky that she hadn’t demanded it be covered in glitter, like the helmet is.

Ben kneels, eye to eye, in front of his infuriated son. “Do you know why she is able to predict your moves so well?”

“Because she’s a _cheater_ ,” Aldaan scowls from beneath his chestnut bangs. “She must have gone into my mind. She’s not supposed to do that while we’re sparring.”

Ben shakes his head. “No. She’s reading your body language. You tilt your head, very slightly, in the direction you’re going to be moving first,” and he demonstrates the movement, once, twice, Aldaan’s hazel eyes watching carefully, “and your feet are pointing in the direction that you’re planning to really move.”

Aldaan nods slowly, the angry splotch of red beginning to disappear from his cheeks as he considers the new information. He takes a more scholarly approach to training than does his older sister, reading manuals and how-to guides and any old books about the Jedi that Rey can find during her intermittent travels. He reminds Ben of himself as a child, always reading and thinking, and one of Ben’s favorite ways to spend time is to lounge on one couch while his son lounges on the other, both absorbed in books, occasionally sharing what they are learning. Aldaan’s emotions can overwhelm him sometimes, but he is mostly quiet, keeping his own counsel and living mainly inside of his own head. Ben is profoundly grateful that there is no one else invading his son’s mind, no malevolent whispering voice as there had been for him; he checks for this often, as does Rey.

“So now that she knows your tell,” Ben continues, “you need to figure out how to eliminate it. I’ll let you think about that for awhile, and then you can tell me your ideas about it.”

A slight but devious smile blooms on Aldaan’s face. “Or I could create false tells. Then she’d really be lost.”

Ben chuckles. “Well, that will work for short time, but she’ll eventually figure out those as well, big guy.” He stands up, then reaches out and ruffles Aldaan’s hair before turning to talk to Padme.

“Papa! _Don’t_!” Aldaan’s aggrieved voice comes from behind him, and Ben chuckles again. He had hated having his hair ruffled when he was a kid too, so he does understand, but now that he’s older he also understands that it’s a way of showing affection without getting what his children would call “mushy”. And he is very affectionate towards his children, determined that they will always know that they are loved and wanted.

Padme sees him coming, and pulls her black eyebrows down sharply into a scowl. Her coloring is his, but the structure of her face is all Rey, as is her temperament. She has all of Rey’s impulsivity and stubborn belief in the rightness of her own conclusions, without the veneer of denial that Rey had worn all her life. Padme sees no reason to pretend that she doesn’t feel what she feels, and she sees no reason not to let everyone else know what she feels and thinks as well.

“Don’t tell me to take it easy on him,” she warns. “He’ll never get better if I go easy on him.”

“I’m not going to,” Ben answers sternly. “But I will tell you that I expect you to obey the sparring rules that we’ve all agreed to follow. That hit was too much, and you know it.”

She looks down to her feet, scuffing them through the grass. “No, it wasn’t,” she sulks, but he can tell she knows the admonition is deserved.

“And I want you to think while you’re fighting,” he says, lifting her face with his hand so that she has to look at him. “You know your brother entirely too well, and one day you may fight someone you don’t know at all. You cannot always rely on knowing someone’s tell.”

Her dark eyes, so like his, are serious when she responds. “No, but I will always use everything I can to fight against anyone, including anything I happen to see them doing.”

“As well you should,” he agrees, but his heart sinks in his chest at the way she looks, so determined and so much older than her years, and he wonders again how much she has overheard of his conversations with her mother, how much his daughter understands about their decision to live on this isolated planet so that the children would be protected while they grew and learned and trained, their existence unknown to most of the rest of the galaxy. 

They tell all their children the family history, in as age-appropriate a way as possible, but they have not yet discussed the most difficult part. Padme is just about old enough to sit down with her father for an honest discussion of his life as Kylo Ren, and the prospect has been haunting Ben. He is determined that his children hear it directly from him, but he wonders if he will lose his sweet, strong-willed daughter when she finds out who he used to be. She is still so young and innocent, in that awkward stage of being not quite a child but not quite an adolescent, her adult teeth still slightly too big for her mouth and her interests swinging wildly between playing with dolls and experimenting with the make-up that Rey brings her from off-planet. 

She’s tried red lipstick today, he notices. It’s too bright for her coloring and she’s put on far too much of it, but he’ll let her figure that out for herself.

“Once more?” She asks, and he squints up into the deep blue sky.

“I don’t know, love,” he responds. “I’m not sure how long we’ve got until sunset.”

Another voice calls to him from near where he’d been watching the sparring.

“Daddy!”

He turns to look towards Hanna. “Yes, baby?”

She holds out what looks like a tangled vine of flowers. “I make it for Mommy!”

“It’s beautiful,” he assures her.

“She’s almost home,” Hanna says, gazing happily at her creation. She is sitting cross-legged on the grass, surrounded by flowers floating in the air around her head. The blossoms are bright pink and red and white and yellow and orange, their green and blue stalks coming together above her in a woven pattern while her chubby little hands reach up and summon completed pieces of the chain so her fingers can join them with those that she’s already holding. Her pink tunic billows around her on the grass; the color of it accentuates the pink of her cheeks and her tiny rosebud mouth, and the waning sun is highlighting the golden streaks in her light brown hair. She hums contentedly as she continues with her little arts and crafts project.

Hanna is stronger in the Force than her siblings, and quite possibly stronger than either of her parents acting alone; she has exhibited this power almost since the day of her birth. The typical tantrums of a three-year-old are enormously destructive when they are Hanna’s, and Ben now understands far better how confused and frightened his parents must have been by the effects of his own violent childhood anger. He almost understands their decision to send him to train with Luke, but he and Rey have agreed that they will never, _ever_ send their children away from them. It’s not really an agreement as much as it is a solemn vow. Their children will never have to feel alone or unwanted.

The sound of engines roars through the sky, and Hanna looks up at Ben and says, “See? Mommy!” Her siblings begin cheering from behind him.

“That sounds like your mother,” he confirms, and his heart swells with joy and peace as he feels her coming back to him. She’s been gone for two days, and it has been an eternity to him, having to go through daily life without her.

The _Falcon_ touches down on the other side of the training meadow as Hanna frantically makes one last adjustment to her flower arrangement, and within seconds Padme and Aldaan have run to it, milling around outside in excitement as they wait for the engines to power down and the ramp to open. Hanna runs out behind them, her gait more bouncy than smooth, and she reaches her brother and sister just as the ramp descends from the ship.

Rey comes racing down the ramp, her smile bright and shining, her arms wide open as she exclaims, “My babies!” She kneels in the grass and her children swarm her in a rush, all tackling her at once, Padme and Aldaan speaking over each other as they tell her things that have happened during her absence, and Rey responds to each of them in turn while Hanna solemnly reaches up to place the completed flower crown on Rey’s head.

“You’re a queen, Mommy,” Hanna tells her, and Rey says, “And you are my princesses and my prince,” and they are all hugging her again. Two days without her was an eternity to them as well.

Ben stands rooted to the spot, spellbound by the picture they make. They are the miracle of his life, his family; they are the center of his universe. He cannot explain what he feels when he sees them all together, but the closest word is _gratitude_. _Thankfulness_. It is a deeper and more profound feeling than either of those words can convey, but they’re all he can come up with.

A roar comes from within the _Falcon_ , and the children shriek, “Uncle Chewie!” They tear up the ramp and into the ship, and Rey straightens up and walks to Ben, the flower crown dangling precariously over one side of her forehead. He feels that indescribable feeling, that _thankfulness_ , even more strongly, and knows it is hers as much as it is his.

“Welcome home,” he says, smiling, and she dimples up at him, raising her hand to take the flower crown off.

“No, no, no,” he says quickly, reaching out to adjust it so that it sits more firmly on her head. “It’s beautiful on you. You should wear it all the time.”

“All the time?” She asks, locking eyes with him, and he sees what she’s thinking and sends back an image of his own, because he knows it will look even better if it’s the _only_ thing she’s wearing, and she immediately throws her arms around his neck and kisses him, softly, deeply, murmuring, “I missed you _so much_ ,” between kisses.

“I love you _so much_ ,” he whispers back between the kisses, which are now growing less soft and even more deep.

From the direction of the _Falcon_ , Ben hears his son make a dramatic retching noise while Padme yells, “ _Stop_ already, can’t you just _wait_ to kiss until we don’t have to watch you, what is _wrong_ with you people?” Ben and Rey break apart to see their annoyed older daughter and disgusted son coming down the ramp, with Chewbacca behind them and Hanna ahead.

“They love each other and they can kiss all the time!” Hanna declares.

“You tell them, baby!” Ben says, and Rey giggles, amused by their bold little daughter.

“I _will_!” She turns to her siblings, her hands on her hips, and stamps her tiny foot. “Hey! _Let them kiss_!”

The light changes around them suddenly, from the golden hue of the near-setting sun to the wash of colors that heralds their favorite part of the day.

“Sunset!” Padme yells, and she and Aldaan take off like a couple of rockets, barreling towards the outcropping of rocks that they use for sky-watching whenever the weather allows. Hanna bobbles along behind, her legs too short to keep up, but Chewbacca scoops her up and puts her on his shoulders and she crows in delight and pats his head as he lumbers towards the rocks.

For a moment, Ben is overcome with nostalgia, remembering what it was like to be on the Wookie’s shoulders as a child, how tall and powerful he felt up there, how soft the fur was against his skin when he was tired and lay his face down on Chewie’s head. Then he remembers the pain in Chewbacca’s voice after Han Solo had fallen from the bridge on Starkiller Base, and he remembers how his father had gently laid his hand upon Ben’s cheek, even after Ben had run the lightsaber through him. Now that he is a father himself, Ben understands the depth of love and forgiveness that Han Solo offered him in those final moments, and he is overwhelmed with shame.

 _I don’t deserve this_ , he thinks. _I don’t deserve any of this_.

He feels Rey’s arm around his waist, tugging him towards the sunset rocks, and he looks down to see her smiling up at him, urging him forwards, the flower crown once again dangling off the side of her head. The sky is surging colors in waves over their heads, sparkling hues of purple and gold and pink and red and green, tumbling and turning in whirls, tinting the air around them, and Padme and Aldaan point up at the colors and name every single one that they can while Hanna tells Chewbacca a rambling, nearly nonsensical story and braids the fur on his head. 

Ben Solo watches his oldest child giggle and sigh at the display before her, happy and secure within her family. He knows he’s done this one thing right in his life, giving that to her, to all of them. He hopes it will be enough to see them through the difficulty that is coming.

Rey takes his hand. “I’ll be with you when you tell her,” she says in a low voice. “You will not be alone.”

He watches the colors play over his wife’s face and reflect in her eyes as the final waves of brilliance race through the sky, and her strength fills him with awe yet again.

 _It doesn’t matter what I deserve_ , he thinks to himself. _They deserve everything, and I will make sure that they always have it_.

Ben leans over to her, and Rey raises her face to press her lips to his as the still calm of the midnight blue evening blankets their family in starlight.


End file.
